


Rent Asunder

by zendog



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Gen, Noncanonical Character Death, Now complete, Threat of violence to children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 15:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 19,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zendog/pseuds/zendog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The girl’s eyes were deep green, filled with tears and helplessness.  He could see the fear she held for him and his own pain reflected in them.  He desperately wanted to let her know that she’d done nothing wrong, it wasn’t her fault, but he couldn’t speak.  It took all his strength to concentrate on her, to try and make her somehow understand this without words; whilst all around the noises of destruction and violence filled the air.  </p>
<p>But he needed her to know, it seemed the only thing he could do, to try and ease the pain of the one child he could comfort, while all around them the other children screamed and died. It was his fault, it was all his fault.  A fresh wave of pain hit him and he gasped, unable to hide it anymore.  The girl grabbed his hand “I’m sorry Merlin, I am sorry, please...” but he did not hear what she had to say.  He could not keep it at bay anymore; he succumbed to it, the pain, the fear and the nightmares...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
The girl’s eyes were deep green, filled with tears and helplessness. He could see the fear she held for him and his own pain reflected in them. He desperately wanted to let her know that she’d done nothing wrong, it wasn’t her fault, but he couldn’t speak. It took all his strength to concentrate on her, to try and make her somehow understand this without words; whilst all around the noises of destruction and violence filled the air. 

But he needed her to know, it seemed the only thing he could do, to try and ease the pain of the one child he could comfort, while all around them the other children screamed and died. It was his fault, it was all his fault. A fresh wave of pain hit him and he gasped, unable to hide it anymore. The girl grabbed his hand “I’m sorry Merlin, I am sorry, please...” but he did not hear what she had to say. He could not keep it at bay anymore; he succumbed to it, the pain, the fear and the nightmares...

 

The Previous Day  
“Father, you cannot do this, the village is under Camelot’s protection, and we have a duty to protect all our people, not to harm them. There are over 100 people living in Leander, women, children, old people” Arthur was not shouting, it never did any good to attempt that with Uther but his voice was insistent and he spoke with a conviction that was hard to ignore. 

Yet ignore it Uther did. “They have only themselves to blame, they invited the sorcerer in, they gave him shelter and comfort. It is no surprise that he has turned on them, that he seeks to use and destroy them. That is the fate of all who consort with the dammed and the wicked. Let them learn the hard way that ALL magic is evil and that Camelot will not stand by and allow any who use it or condone it to live. They are all condemned.” 

Arthur looked at the King, at the cold, fixed expression of hate that filled his face whenever he spoke of magic. Arthur knew it was no use; Uther had decided. A troop of soldiers was already preparing to go to Leander in 2 days to punish all of its inhabitants and the girl was condemned to burn. 

Even as he spoke Arthur knew it was pointless but he had to try. At least once.

“Please Sire, it was the Elder of the village that called the sorcerer, he was the one who wanted to increase the crops, to increase his wealth and he has already paid for his crime with his life. The villagers had nothing to...”

“Enough Arthur, I will hear no more on this matter. You will stand beside me on this; it is your duty as Prince and future King. You will not show weakness. I wish to see you behave in a way that will make me proud, that will make me sure of your future as King. The whole village is tainted with magic and must be torn down, eradicated. I want nothing left; I want the all of Camelot to remember this day. I do not insist that you take part in this action, it is a peasant village and unworthy of a Prince’s involvement. But I do insist that everyone knows that you agree with my decision. We must stand united on this. I have let my fight against magic slide, I have been remiss. But no more. Magic has taken everything from me and I will destroy every last vestige of its presence.” 

 

As Arthur slammed open the doors to his chambers there was a loud yelp, a crash and the unmistakable sound of a tray, jug and goblet hitting the floor. He looked down at his feet where (having been hit by the exploding door) a startled and very wet Merlin lay, covered in red wine. Any other time, this sight, a bewildered and soaked idiot grabbing for the fallen objects would have elicited at least a smirk, if not a full scale verbal onslaught of how useless Merlin was as a servant. But not today, not with the knowledge of what his Father intended to do. And the decision he had to make.

“Get up Merlin.” Arthur sighed as he walked to the window, from where he could see soldiers preparing their equipment. He knew he was Prince and that he had sworn fealty and allegiance to his King and to Camelot. He knew where his Father felt his duty lay. He knew what was expected of him.

“What is it Arthur?” Merlin knew Arthur too well to believe he would pass up such a chance to rib him, he knew something was wrong. “What did the King want?” He left the debris on the floor; he’d get to it later. Right now he needed to know what was happening.

Arthur said nothing for a full minute. Then he straightened up, turned towards Merlin and spoke in a clear, quiet voice “Come with me, I need you to hear something. There’s someone you need to meet. I have a decision to make.”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
The girl appeared to be about 14 years old and she has the greenest eyes Merlin had ever seen, She was small and wiry and had a quality about her that spoke of being loved, cared for and independent. However all that was currently hidden deep inside her, for current her demeanour was full of fear and despair. She was curled up in the far corner of the dungeon, filthy and shivering, terrified of what would happen to her. The chains around her arms and legs were already cutting into her skin and Merlin could just make out in the gloom the blood on her wrists and ankles. He shivered.

“Arthur, what is going on? Why is she here, what could she possibly have done?” Merlin spoke to Arthur but could not take his eyes off the girl. She in her turn gazed straight back at him. She may be petrified but she had not been broken, Merlin recognised a courage in her that he hoped would sustain her through her troubles. But he wasn’t going to let her stay where she was a moment longer than he could. Nothing she could have done deserved being chained up in a damp, rat infested hole in the ground. She was a child and she deserved much more. Not for the first time Merlin felt disgusted with the way Camelot (or rather it’s King) treated some of its citizens. He had to believe that when Arthurs turn to reign came such things would not happen. He had to believe that Arthur was better than his Father and that care of his people was life blood to him. No, he reminded himself - he didn’t have to believe this, he already knew it to be true, with all his mind and soul. Arthur would never have done this vile thing.

“Tell me Arthur” Merlin repeated as he stared at the silent girl.

“She came to my Father, to ask for help for her village.” Arthur continued in a voice that seemed devoid of any emotion “The Village Elder had asked a Druid to come to the village to help make the crops grow; he wanted more produce to sell at market, to make more money to keep his young wife happy. Nobody else knew; he had the sense to know what he was doing was illegal. But he was stupid and in thrall to his new wife, so he employed magic. However he made a mistake; the man he employed was not a simple druid, content to make crops grow but a sorcerer with hatred in his heart. He has killed the Elder and now has the whole village in his thrall. He has them under his power and they are devastating the surrounding area, raiding other villages, attacking travellers and destroying other crops. This girl escaped and came for help but my all Father heard was that they had invited the magic in and now he is sending a troop of soldiers to kill all who live in the village. Every man, woman and child is condemned to die for using magic.”

“Surely Uther would not condemn a whole village for one man’s stupidity. You said yourself they are under the sorcerers control; they can’t help what they are doing. Uther wouldn’t kill children...” Merlin’s voice trailed off as remembered all that he had heard of the worst days of the Great Purge and he knew. Knew the village was dammed.

Merlin glanced over at the Dungeon Guards who stood by the entrance, he lowered his voice. He did not want a report of what he was saying to go directly to Uther.

“What will you do Arthur? You can’t let this happen. They don’t deserve this. They are not using magic but rather are being used BY it. There must be a way to break his hold over them. They need help and protection and saving, not execution. You must stand up to Uther. You must choose what is right.” Merlin looked at Arthur, trying to read what was going on behind his now shielded eyes. There was no way Arthur was just going to let this happen. No way that the Prince could stand by and let a whole village die...but then Merlin saw Arthur’s eyes harden and grow cold. Arthur looked at the girl and then turned away, facing Merlin full on and spoke in a distant but firm voice.

“He is my King and my Father; I must respect his decisions and follow his lead. It is my duty and my destiny. My Father is right, there is nothing I can do or indeed should do, except obey him. I am the Crown Prince and I must continue the fight against the evil that is magic. The village of Leander will pay for its mistake. It will be the sign to all others that magic will be obliterated”

Without a pause to allow a response Arthur turned and strode out of the dungeon. As the outer door slammed shut, leaving Merlin alone in the corridor, a coldness descended that could not just be explained by the deep, dank location. Merlin felt his heart stutter, his knees gave way and he held onto the cell door just to stay upright. Arthur was going to let it happen, he was going to let them all die. Merlin felt broken, destroyed. He had believed so much, had dreamed of so much and had given so much. It was bearable when there had been hope, when he could see a united peaceful Albion getting closer, a land where magic would be accepted fully. 

But he had been so wrong; it had all just been a stupid, idiotic and fanciful mirage. Arthur had been faced with his moment of choice and he had chosen. Merlin’s hope was over and Albion could never be. Arthur was just like Uther.  
**********************************************************************


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
“My Lord. Please, my Lord...”

Merlin raised his head as he realised the girl in the dungeon was speaking, calling him a Lord, calling for him to notice her. He kept his eyes closed for a moment more, unable to face her, knowing he had little to offer her as comfort. But he was not a coward; he knew she deserved his attention and his pity. He knew what fate Uther had planned for her and he knew it would not be a pleasant one. She was as dammed as the rest of her unfortunate village.

“My name is Merlin” he said quietly “and I am just a servant, not a Lord.”

“Oh, I thought because you came with Prince Arthur and you spoke to him so...like a friend ... I thought you must be someone powerful...My name is Niamh” The girl stopped speaking and for the first time since Arthur left, Merlin looked up at her and meet her gaze. 

She was staring at him with those deep green eyes that seemed to express so much, a mixture of fear and confusion written across her young features. Merlin realised she must have heard what he and Arthur had spoken about. Niamh knew that the fate of all the people she had grown up with and loved had been decided. Also what awaited her on the pyre. But she knew he had defended her and the look on her face displayed her indecision as to whether she could trust him or not. Was he really on her side?

Merlin wanted to comfort her, to make her feel less alone but he realised there was nothing he could do except talk to her, listen to her and try and ease her trials. “I am so sorry” he said in a quavering voice “I will keep on trying to help but I fear there is little I can do. I thought Arthur was different, I thought he’d help. I thought I knew him. But I was mistaken. “  
“I thank you for your concern and your pity but I fear... “At this the firm young voice wavered as she truly realised for the first time what the future held for her and her village. 

But then her voice grew in strength again. She needed to tell her story; she needed the truth to be understood by someone, no matter how lowly. She wanted to be believed and listened to. “I fear that no-one can help us. We didn’t know, we thought it was a blessing when our crops grew so well. We thought that for once we would not nearly starve through the winter, that there would be plenty and that we would have a surplus to sell. Then he appeared. He came out into the fields, Ranley our Elder being dragged behind him as if by an invisible hand. He told us that Ranley had summoned him. He said he needed an army to bring his Master to power. That we could join him willingly and would be rewarded, but that we really had no choice. If we chose not to join him we would become his slaves and that we would be his to command. Then he said we needed a demonstration of what would happen to us if we disobeyed and he spoke some strange words and then Ranley...” 

Again Niamh faltered, her wide eyes appearing sightless as she relived the terror she had witnessed “Then Ranley started choking, he was grasping his neck, turning red then blue, trying to breathe. He was crying, trying to get away. But there was nothing to fight, just the sorcerer standing there with his hand held out. We did nothing, we were all too scared. Ranley struggled for a minute or two, imploring us to help him but we were just too scared. Too shocked. Then it was over. Ranley was gone and the sorcerer just dumped his body on the ground and set it alight with one word.”

Merlin reached his hand through the gap in the door but he could not touch her. He felt helpless and useless. 

Niamh continued “Some of the men volunteered to join him; he calls them the Willing Ones. Maybe it was fear that made them do it but more likely it was his promises of riches and power; but most of us did not want to. But as he said we really had no choice. I remember there being a feeling of such evil, a rush of wind and words that made my heart want to stop and then, nothing. I woke a few hours later and no-one was as they had been. They had no control, no feelings. It was like they were standing outside their bodies and someone else was ruling them. They were cold, ruthless and spiritless. I don’t know how I escaped the spell. Perhaps my training with the Druids...” at this the girl broke off, terrified that she had confessed to the crime of magic.

Merlin smiled gently. How well he understood her fear. She and he had both been living in the shadow of death and execution. The bond he was feeling with her grew. He imagined her as a little sister, with whom he could have shared the wonder and joy of magic as well as the terror that its discovery could bring. 

This thought reminded him of how he had hoped one day to reveal himself to Arthur and how he’d dreamt of them returning magic back to its rightful place in the Kingdom. But that dream had been shattered by Arthur’s decision and how he could now never be himself in Camelot. Reminded him of how he too would have to choose. A fearful sigh from the girl brought him back to the moment and he urged her to go on.

“Don’t worry; I’ll keep your secret.” He reassured her.

Niamh stared into Merlin’s eyes and obviously finding in them the truth of his words she continued “I’ve been...I’ve been training as a healer with the Druids, without my village knowing. Oh, Sir, I know it was wrong but I feel such happiness when I make someone better, surely healing can’t be bad magic? Perhaps this training saved me from the spell, I don’t know. But I did know I wasn’t like them. But I was so scared. I knew my only chance was to pretend to be like them. So I kept my eyes and my face free of any emotion and I walked like them and...then I went home.” Niamh paused here, memories of the horrors she had seen returning unbidden. “My Mother was...not my Mother anymore and my brother...he became so evil. He hurt me and scared me so much.” Tears sprung from her eyes and for the first time since she had begun her story Merlin really realised quite how young she actually was. 

Thoughts of Hunith came to his mind. To see her possessed, become evil and wicked, to know she could not love him anymore would be unbearable. It was hard enough for him to think about it happening, so he could not even begin to imagine what it must have actually felt like to have experienced it as Niamh had done.

“The things they did, what they were made to do, not just the Willing Ones. Horrible, terrible things. Other villages destroyed, people killed – but most of them didn’t know what they were doing Merlin. It wasn’t them, it wasn’t my Father, my brother, my neighbour. I didn’t know what to do; I managed to avoid the raiding parties because I am so small. Perhaps he thought I was younger than I am. The younger children were made to stay behind and prepare food and care for the wounded. Although, anyone too old or too injured to fight was – was – was burned alive by the sorcerer.”

Merlin caught the sound of terror and hopelessness in her voice and again cursed the fact that such a young child could have been witness to such horrors.

“I managed to escape a few nights ago, slipped away while they were raiding a merchant train. I came here to Camelot. I thought I would find mercy and justice. But instead I found only hatred and unkindness. I have no hope left. Please Merlin, they are not to blame. Don’t let the King kill them all.”

Then as if the effort of all the talking and remembering had taken the last of her strength Niamh turned her face to the wall and closed her eyes and wept. 

Merlin was distraught. He looked once again at the guards. Since the Prince had left they had slacked off in their duties and were half asleep at their post – they would not see. In fact one of them seemed to have decided to slip off early from work and had disappeared altogether. 

He came to a decision; in fact he knew he had been going to do this all along. He would rescue Niamh and go to help the village. He had time before the soldiers would get there. He wasn’t sure how he could do it, especially alone, but he knew he had to. Arthur may have failed both him and his future subjects but Merlin would not do the same. He would help and then he would leave, never return to Camelot. There was nothing left here for him. Arthur was not the “Once and Future King” and the prophesies were wrong. Merlin ignored the awful gut wrenching feeling of total emptiness that these thoughts gave him. He knew he needed to concentrate on the girl and her problems, time for sorrow and regrets later. But despite trying to forget, the pain stayed there. It was a permanent presence deep within his soul.

Looking at the girl curled up awkwardly in the corner of the grim cell Merlin realised he could not rescue her right away but he could make her more comfortable. With a sudden golden flash of his eyes he made her sleep, warmed her body and loosened the chains enough to make them no longer torture her limbs. She would sleep long and well, magically protected from the nightmares that had disturbed her nights since the sorcerer came. 

Merlin stood there watching this brave child and for a moment the crushing events of the day threatened to overwhelm him. Again the thought that there was no “once and future King” rushed in to try and drown him. But then he straightened his shoulders and lifted his head. Arthur was not going to help Niamh, but Emry’s would. 

*********************************************************************


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
As Arthur left the dungeon he knew what he had done. He had broken Merlin’s heart and terrified a child. He knew that it would seem unforgivable to Merlin, but he also knew that Merlin WOULD forgive him when he understood why.

Arthur had realised, after the scene in the Throne Room that his Father would not trust him to as he was told. Plenty of times in the past he had defied his Father and done what he felt was right (although oddly this had been happening more often since Merlin had arrived, tripping and bumbling into his life – purely a coincidence the Prince told himself. Nothing to do with any effect the idiot was having on him). Arthur suspected that he would be watched and his behaviour would be reported back to the King. He had to make sure that Uther truly believed that he was going to do what he was told this time. That was why he had played out that little show in the dungeons.

If he had merely appeared to accept his Fathers edict then it would have seemed too easy to Uther and the King would have suspected some duplicity. So Arthur had to make it look like he had struggled, had thought fully about his decision and that he had included Merlin in on this. Because, deny it out loud as he would Arthur (and Uther) knew that in reality Merlin was always the one he talked things through with. If he had a problem or an issues he would discuss it with Merlin – not in a girlie way of course, Prince’s don’t do emotions or feelings - but in a manly, practical fashion. At least that’s what he told himself.

But this time Arthur had to keep Merlin out of the first part of the plan. Merlin’s reactions had to be good to convince the spying dungeon guards that Arthur really meant what he said – and frankly Arthur did not think Merlin’s acting skills were up to it. So he had lied, told Merlin the one thing he knew would get an instant and dramatic reaction – he was going to let the girl and the village die. Arthur knew as soon as he had left the dungeon a guard would be rushing to the King’s chambers with the news that, for once, Arthur was doing the right thing. Which would mean Uther would relax his watch, Arthur would be able to go about his business undisturbed and he and Merlin could go and save the village.

Simple. All it took was for Merlin to not do anything stupid. But an hour later, as Arthur looked around Merlin’s empty room and listened to Gaius saying that he didn’t know where Merlin was, he suddenly realised that to rely on Merlin NOT to do anything stupid was the most stupid thing he, Arthur, could have done.

Merlin was gone and it didn’t take a great deal of imagination to realise where he had gone. Arthur sighed. Really, was nothing ever easy when it came to that idiot? He tried to put the worrying image of the thin, useless-at-defending-himself and incredibly clumsy manservant challenging a powerful sorcerer out of his mind. Merlin would be travelling to the village by foot; surely Arthur would be able to catch him up on horseback. Afterall the fool only had an hour or so’s lead. Arthur had already spread the news that he and Merlin were going on a hunting trip, getting away would be no trouble. In fact he rather suspected Uther was glad he was not going to be around during the next few days. 

And once he caught up with that fool they would have to have a few words about trust, waiting to hear the full plan and not going off on stupid rescue missions without at least talking to Arthur first!

But, as Arthur left the safety of the castle and rode away, his thoughts were far from calm. There was a feeling, somewhere deep inside that warned him that the next few days were going to be difficult beyond belief. 

*****

It was a few hours later that a guard (who had a daughter the same age as Niamh and who felt some sympathy with her) opened the cell where she was being held and entered carrying some bread, water and an old apple. It took a minute or two until the reality of what he was seeing – or rather not seeing – fully hit him. Then, dropping the cup and plate with a loud clatter he ran from the cell and sounded the alarm bell.

Uther stood staring at the hell hole where that devil child had been held. The cell was empty but the door had been locked. It could only have been magic. A sorcerer had been within his castle walls and Uther’s fury was endless. This confirmed to him the justness of his earlier decision regarding the village of Leander. It was his life’s work to seek out and destroy the canker that was magic and to annihilate all who practised it within his Kingdom.

**********************************************************************


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
Merlin kept hold of Niamh’s hand as they walked through the woods. She was tired and stumbled often but would not stop, no matter how many times he suggested it. She kept looking at him with a mixture of joy and apprehension. She was not sure how this skinny young man, not much older than her brother, had actually managed to break her free from Uther’s dungeons or indeed how he had got them out of the castle with such ease. 

He’d laughed when she asked, said that he and the Prince often sneaked out to go on “adventures”. He was smiling as he started to tell her of some of the things they had got up to when suddenly a shadow passed over his face and his body sagged, his shoulders hunched and his face shut down. All emotion was gone from him, as if he was not allowing himself to feel. She knew then that what had gone on in the dungeons between him and Prince Arthur had damaged him badly. She remembered how she had felt when her family and friends had turned from the loving people she had lived with all her life to the mindlessly violent empty shells they were now and she believed she could understand his grief and gently gave his hand a comforting squeeze. Merlin was surprised and looked down at the girl. Sensing what she was trying to say he smiled at her and stood up straight again. She was very sensitive for such a young one.

It was getting dark and they needed to make camp but Merlin was anxious. He realised how exposed they were and was regretting not telling Gwaine about his plan. It would have been reassuring to have his cheery (and exceptionally good at fighting) friend with them. It might have eased the pain he felt a little to.

Turning his thoughts away from what he had lost Merlin concentrated on trying to come up with a plan. So far all he’d decided was that he was going to use his magic – why keep it hidden any longer? He was never going back to Camelot anyway. He’d said his goodbyes in letters to Gaius and Gwen that he’d left with the Cook, with instructions not to deliver them until the morning. He was free of his destiny – the chain by which he was tied to Arthur had been broken. He’d often thought of it as a weight around his neck but now he realised it had been an anchor keeping him steady and fixed. A place to call home. Without it he was lost and had nothing – no need to hide, no need to fear discovery, no need to live – no he needed to live to free the village. That was the only purpose he had in sight and once that was gone, who knew...

“We need to stop, make camp and rest before it gets too dark” he said to Niamh.

“I know of a cave near here” she replied, looking around “It will be warmer than sleeping outside and safer too. I don’t really like the forest after dark.”

“Lead the way, my Lady” Merlin said with a small grin on his face as he bowed in an elaborate and comical fashion. He wanted to hide his confusion and pain as best he could from the child; she had enough of her own to contend with. Niamh looked at him for a moment, made as if to speak, then smiled back, took his hand again and led the way off the path and deeper into the forest.

As the forbidding trees swallowed them up, a shadowy form slid from behind a tree, waited a moment and then began to follow them into the darkness. A slight contented chuckle could be heard as the figure headed away, a cold sound with no humour or heart – betraying no feelings except the satisfaction of knowing that soon Emrys would be his.

**********************************************************************


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
Arthur rode as fast as he could, following the meandering path to the village of Leander. There were so many tracks he had no real idea which, if any, were Merlin’s. So no real proof the idiot was really heading there – but Arthur knew he was.

He knew he’d arrive well before nightfall and hoped to catch up with Merlin on the way there, to explain and to join together to free the village. Somehow, despite Merlin’s clumsiness and general ineptitude, Arthur always felt better when he was around, they seemed to complement each other. Arthur guessed it might take a while to talk Merlin round but he had no real fear of rejection – Merlin would rail and probably whine a bit but he would forgive him, after all that’s what friends do. Not that Arthur would ever tell Merlin that was what he thought of him, way, way too touchy feely. 

Arthur rode on, his attention not truly on the matter in hand and that may explain why he did not notice the men standing on the path in front of him until the horse reared up and came to a halt. There was something not right about them, something too quiet, too contained, too calm. Glancing around Arthur felt a jolt of, no it wasn’t fear (he didn’t get scared), it was concern only. Five men stood in front of him and five behind, all armed and all silent. He hadn’t been expecting trouble on the road, it was a quiet path and the village was still some miles away. 

“Who are you? What do you want?” Arthur shouted. But there was no reply, just the sound of ten pairs of feet moving closer and closer to him. Arthur stared at the nearest men. What was it that seemed so wrong about them? Then he realised, they were not blinking, not making a single facial movement to betray them as human. Nothing but blankness and emptiness – the shells of the men they once were. 

And Arthur knew he had been found by the Willing Ones of Leander.

 

Sword flashing as it moved through the dusk, Arthur parried another attack from the man in front of him whilst kicking backwards at one approaching him from behind. The men seemed to be taking it in turns to come forward, 2 or 3 at a time, testing him, toying with him it felt like. If they all came at once he knew he would not stand a chance but no, they were playing with him. Not that any joy or fun could be seen on their blank faces as they thrust their swords and axes at him. Just emptiness, no bloodlust, anger or fear. 

The man at his back swung his cudgel and Arthur moved to his left and deflected the blow. The villager withdrew and another moved forward with a pike and a small workman’s knife. The first man with the sword attacked at the same time but neither seemed to have the intention to kill, just fight and hurt. And take their time – the fight, such as it was had been going on for over 20 minutes. Each time it seemed the 10 men had the advantage they withdrew, let Arthur recover enough to carry on. The fight never stopped but it also never seemed to fully start.

“Are they trying to tire me to death?” thought Arthur as he fought the 2 men. “Why are they holding back? Why are they taking so long?”

A loud horn blared out of the deep forest, its singular note having an immediate effect on the Willing Ones. They all stood still, dropped their arms and looked at the forest floor. Arthur had no idea what was happening but decided that he would try to figure it out once he had escaped and made a break for a gap between 2 of the largest of the now immobile men. 

However before he reached safety the horn sounded again, 2 blasts this time and the effect was instantaneous. As one the men raised their heads and their weapons and moved purposefully towards Arthur. For the first time he saw expression in their eyes and it was not pretty. They hated him, wanted him hurt, damaged, dead. And there was nowhere to run, no escape. Arthur raised his sword, had time to be thankful that Merlin was actually far away and hopefully safe, before the blows began. 

He tried to fight, managed to wound or even kill a few of the men but this did not affect the others in any way. Blow after blow connected with Arthur and his armour was not enough. He fell to his knees, still trying to fight but a mace connected with his sword arm and as the pain ripped through his entire body he dropped his sword. He didn’t have time to mourn its loss as the largest amongst his attackers moved behind him and the hilt of a rusty old sword slammed down onto his skull. 

All movement stopped, they were looking at him with triumph in their dark eyes. Then the horn sounded again and the men all looked towards a space in the trees. Arthur had one moment of clarity before he succumbed to the darkness and in that moment he too looked towards that space and what he saw filled him with despair. 

For there was Merlin, bound and bleeding, on his knees beside a tall, cloaked man and a small, green eyed girl...who was free and unbound.

“Merlin” Arthur yelled and was so relieved to see Merlin respond, lift his head slightly and look at him. But that relief evaporated immediately as he read the accusation in Merlin’s afflicted eyes – “Why did you abandon me? Why did you choose to do such wrong? How did I fail you?” they said. Then Merlin’s eyes filled with tears and his head dropped again. 

Devastated, unable to answer the charges laid on him, the last thing Arthur saw before the nausea and pain became too much was the tall man raise his hand, point it at Merlin and yell “Lets play” And Merlin, crashing to the floor, curling in on himself and writhing and screaming as if he were burning. 

And the green eyed girl just looked on, smiling at Merlin’s pain as Arthur slipped away, Merlin’s agonised screams tearing into his consciousness, until Arthur finally gave in and fell...


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
As the small fire burned quietly in the entrance of the cave Merlin bustled around, fixing some food for himself and Niamh. She was sitting silently in the corner, back against the cave wall, staring into the distance.

Merlin left her to her thoughts; he knew what it was to need space and time to think. She was only young, she’d suffered so much that his heart broke for her. Merlin busied himself, determined to keep his mind away from the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him. He wondered if Arthur knew how he’d devastated him but Merlin doubted it. Arthur sometimes did not seem to understand or to be able to truly deal with deep emotions. Years of a formal, repressed upbringing with a Father who rarely, if ever, showed love had made Arthur very good at shutting off his feelings. Merlin had hoped that, given time, he could have helped Arthur to find them again, to give him the faith in himself to stand up to his Father for what was right. But that was impossible now, Arthur had chosen. 

“I’m going to get some firewood” Niamh’s voice startled him back to the present.

“I will do it, it’s too late for you to be wandering far from the camp. Just keep an eye on supper.” Saying that Merlin moved to the cave mouth and glanced outside. It was dusk and a coldness had descended on to the forest. He shivered, pulled his tatty brown jacket tightly around him and walked out.

 

xxx

20 minutes later Merlin, arms full of wood, made his way back to the cave. He had been thinking and planning how he was going to deal with the sorcerer in the morning. He planned to draw him away from the villagers to lessen the chances of anyone getting hurt and then – well that was where Merlin got stuck – usually either Arthur had a plan or Merlin just sort of bundled in and acted on impulse. Maybe that was the best way to deal with it after all; plans always seemed to fall down. “And anyway,” he thought “I can use my magic. I am supposed to be the most powerful warlock that has ever lived. For once I can use my power without worrying about being seen. I can –“

A scream rang out from the cave, loud and full of fear and then it was brutally cut off. Niamh!

Dropping the firewood Merlin scrambled up the hillside to the cave mouth. His usual clumsiness gone now, replaced by a fleetness of foot that would have shocked all who knew the legendarily inelegant manservant. He flung himself through the entrance, right arm outstretched, ready to fight whoever was harming the child. 

He instantly took in what was happening. Niamh was being held by the throat by one of the largest, dirtiest looking men Merlin had ever seen. The attacker had his back to Merlin and had raised the child off the floor by her neck and was chocking her. Niamh’s green eyes were full of panic, her hands scrabbling at her neck, her legs kicking at the man. But to no effect. The life was being squeezed out of her.

Oblivious to anything else Merlin raised his arm higher and his eyes gleamed gold – the attacker screamed, dropped the child and began to choke. For a moment all Merlin’s fear, anxiety and anguish was directed towards the man and Merlin believed he would kill him. 

But that was not how Merlin used his magic and with a muttered spell he flung the large man away, unconscious, into the corner of the cave.

“Are you ok Niamh? Did he...”  
But Merlin never got to finish the question. A blinding light filled the cave and at the same instant a bolt of pain hit him squarely across his back. He fell to his knees as another light and another red hot blast of pain smashed into his head. Blood poured from his ears, his eyes and his mouth. He had never felt anything like it, a torment of bright, pulsing anguish that didn’t seem to end, crushing all his strength and stealing all his breath.

Then just as suddenly as it started it stopped. Barely able to breathe, Merlin dragged himself the last few inches towards the wall of the cave and, though it cost him dear in terms of strength and will power, he pulled himself up and round to lean on the wall. His vision was blurred but he caught sight of 2 figures, one tall; the other small and slight.

Niamh; the sorcerer had Niamh. Merlin desperately tried to see, he shakily raised his hand, the part of his brain that was still functioning knowing he dare not cast a spell. Not without knowing where the girl was. He shook his aching head although it felt like it was about to explode. He needed to see. The 2 figures were really close and he could hear the girls breathing, fast and desperate. He must not fail her.

Vision returned. But what he saw shook all thoughts of retaliating out of his mind. Niamh was smiling. She was looking directly at him and smiling. Her green eyes no longer reflected human emotions – they were cruel and old beyond her years. Merlin’s heart quailed. He knew then that he had been tricked; the girl and the possessed village were just lures to catch him. And he had been caught. 

Before he had time to really process what he had seen the tall man’s eyes flashed and a muttered incantation brought a repeat of the torment but this time it was worse. This time he felt it eating at his magic. Cornering it, suppressing it, killing it. Pulling it from him and collecting it in the charm the tall sorcerer wore around his neck.  
Weakened and broken, Merlin had no defence ready and the spell was strong, the charm around the sorcerers neck ripping his magic from him. It reached down into the very corner of his being and stole his essence. The magic that it could not remove was paralysed instead. The pain was beyond endurance, a hundred knives stabbing and twisting. He could feel his magic being torn from him, wrenched from where it joined to him completely. And both he and his magic were in agony. Not meant to be apart, the pain of separation was intense. His magic was helpless. He was helpless. The tall sorcerer had destroyed the part of him that held him together, his very soul was bound up with his magic and without that he felt like nothing, was nothing. Crushed and annihilated. Desolate. 

“Well done my dear” the tall man drawled as he placed his hand on Niamh’s shoulder and they watched the Merlin’s distress. “You did as you were requested and you will be suitably rewarded. What would you like me to do with our little warlock friend here”

“I would like to hear him scream” laughed Niamh happily. “He would be such a lovely toy to play with.”

“As you wish but let’s see if the Willing Ones would like to join in our little game, hey?” With that the sorcerer pulled a hunting horn from his belt and blew one long note. He walked swiftly to where Merlin lay on the cold floor and grabbed his arm.

“We are going to see a friend of yours, boy.” Raising the horn to his lips again this time he blew 2 notes and as they died away there was a whirlpool of dust, wind and magic, the sound of one more mournful note on the horn and all three of the figures disappeared.

Xxx

“Merlin.” 

He heard his name; somewhere someone was saying his name. From deep within he found the energy to raise his head a little and found himself staring into the eyes of the one person he did not want to see. Arthur. Arthur trapped and hurt. But Merlin did not have time to think of the implications of this as he heard Mawr saying “Let’s play.” For then the pain began again and for Merlin there was nothing else left in the world but agony. 

xxx

 

.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
Arthur didn’t understand it...why was he lying on a cold damp floor? Why did his head feel as if he’d just gone one on one with a griffin? He reached his right hand up to his forehead and gasped in pain. Looking down he saw his arm was bloody and twisted – obviously broken. “How the hell...?” Then he remembered – the possessed villagers; the sorcerer; the green eyed girl and, “Gods, Merlin”.

Suddenly frantic he pulled himself upright, fighting the intense feeling of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him and looked desperately around him. No-one. He was alone in a small hut, the door closed. But not tied up, not chained. Why?

Deciding there would be time to ponder that once he’d got out, Arthur made straight for the door, cradling his injured arm protectively. But as he reached the door he was struck by a blow to the chest and flung onto his back. His broken arm slammed onto the floor and sent a charge of pain straight up to his head, almost causing him to black out again. 

He glanced up at the door, no-one was there and at once he understood. He knew that it was magic that had stopped him leaving – no wonder he was not tied up. He was trapped as completely as if he were chained to a stake in the middle of the room.

Getting gingerly to his feet he circled the space, still trying to clear his head and to suppress the pain of his arm. And all the time one thought ran around his mind – where was Merlin? What had they done to him? In the brief moment they had had before Arthur lost consciousness and Merlin had been subjected to - Arthur shuddered as he recalled the horrific pain that had been inflicted on his servant. Comrade? Friend? Dammit, inflicted on Merlin. In that brief moment they had made eye contact and Arthur blanched at what he knew he had seen reflected in Merlin’s eyes. He had seen despair, pain, defeat and disgust. Disgust aimed at him, Arthur was sure of it. 

For the first time he really thought about what Merlin might have actually felt about his seeming to agree with his Father. He had seemed to agree to the murder an entire village for the sake of one man’s stupidity. Could Merlin really have believed him capable of such a thing? Surely by now he’d have seen through the guise, worked out what Arthur really meant to do? Surely? “He must know I would never do something like that?” but then Arthur thought again of the look Merlin had given him and he felt a sudden sinking feeling. “Gods, he does think that. I need to see him...I need to explain”

With the thought of seeing Merlin the reality of the situation hit Arthur again. Merlin was injured; was being tortured last he’d seen him. His own feelings and an explanation would have to wait; first he had to figure a way to get out and to rescue Merlin from wherever he was being held. 

Frantically he searched the hut again but he did not have time to even begin to formulate a plan before the door was thrust open, a spell muttered and a broken and battered body was thrown into the hut and the door quickly slammed shut.

Merlin. Oh dear God, it was Merlin. Or what was left of him.

Xxx


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N It all gets a bit more dark and violent from here on in...just a gentle warning if you are not keen on that sort of thing.

Chapter 9  
Merlin had woken to silence. But it wasn’t the silence of being alone; it was the silence of a crowd of mute of watchers. He had also woken to pain. The pain was insistent, it was jealously trying to grab all of his attention but the silence of the unseen watchers was more disturbing.

Without opening his eyes Merlin could feel them all around him. The malevolence of their presence had awoken the little spark of magic still struggling to stay alive within him. But the feeling of this pathetic whisp of what had once been some much a part of him was almost beyond enduring. Merlin’s heart, already near breaking point, tore a little more.

“Welcome, Warlock. You have been eagerly anticipated. The chance to entertain the Great Emrys is an honour I have been waiting many years to fulfil.” A voice boomed out of the silence, off to Merlin’s left but he still did not open his eyes. He was not ready for this. He hurt and he ached and he despaired. 

Footsteps approached him and he was grabbed and pulled to his feet but was unable to stand unaided. He fell the moment the hands let go their vicious hold on him, only to be pulled upright immediately. Knowing that he had to face this Merlin gathered what little strength he had left and raised his head and opened his eyes.

He had been right in thinking he was being watched. About twenty hooded men stood around him in a circle, linking hands and staring unblinkingly at him. These must be the Willing Ones who joined with the sorcerer of their own choice Merlin thought. He straightened his back and looked at them each in turn, fighting the urge to collapse. As he turned towards the tallest man he stopped and stared. It was the sorcerer from the cave. Merlin could not drag his eyes away from the charm around the man’s neck – it was of a pale white horse, wild and demonic, and he knew contained within it was his magic. The magic so cruelly compelled from him. An almost diabolical sense of evil seeped from the sorcerer – dark magic of the cruellest kind.

“You know who I am” Merlin managed to say, the words sounding slurred and slow “So return the courtesy, who are you? What do you want with me?”

With exaggerated movements the man lowered his hood and gazed with unmistakeable glee at Merlin. 

“I am Mawr, last true servant to the great and mighty Arawan, God of the Underworld and Revenge. I want you, Warlock. I want you to suffer, to lose everything and to despair. I will defeat the mighty Emrys and change the Prophesies. It is my destiny. With you and the Pendragon pup gone, I will pave the way for Him. I was born to unite the Realms and bring my Masters magic to this World. He has spoken and it will be so. At the ceremony I will sacrifice the innocents and you will be unable to save them. With your death and your souls despair I will raise my Master up from the depths of the Underworld to rule all men.”

At these words the circle broke apart and into it walked 16 children, all with the glazed and dead eyes of the possessed. Leading them, dead eyes like all the others, was Niamh.

“What have you done to them?” Merlin whispered “Why not just kill me and be done?”

“Oh, I needed you broken and distraught. I knew that the idea of a village of the dammed would be too much for you. I knew that you would not be able to stand aside whilst Uther murdered them all. It was a pretty game to play and I sweetened it with a child who I knew would reach your heart. You saw what you needed to see, a girl who had lost everything, but who still carried on. Your soft and stupid conscience would not let you abandon her and her village. The break with Prince Arthur was just an added delight. That drove you so far down that the girl’s betrayal was all I needed to weaken you enough to attack and subdue your magic.”

Merlin struggled weakly against the men holding him as he watched the children, lead again by Niamh, form a line in front of Mawr and close their eyes. 

Walking to each child, except Niamh, Mawr touched them one by one on their chest, just above their hearts and whispered into their ears the words “Cysgu tan boen deffro i chi.” And one by one, with a gasp of pain, the children opened their eyes – now full of fear and knowledge, and then fell senseless to the ground. Merlin yelled and tried once again to break free.  
“Do not worry, oh Mighty Emrys” mocked Mawr “They yet live. The ceremony must take place at sunset tomorrow, so we have plenty of time left to carry on our little game. I sense there is still some modicum of fight left in you and that will never do. So perhaps it is time to reward young Niamh and the Willing Ones with a demonstration of how weak you really. And how powerful the Coming God Arawan will be.”

With a slight laugh he raised his arm and ordered “Roi iddo boen” and stepped back as the girl and the Willing Ones walked towards Merlin. As they approached Merlin tried to summon what little magic was left in him but it was too tired, too damaged. As the blows, the slashes and kicks landed on him he gave into the pain and accepted it. There was nothing left to give or to hope for. He had failed before he had begun.  
xxx

When they had finally finished playing with their toy (who was no longer as much fun since he’d eventually stopped screaming and writhing in agony) two of the Willing Ones picked up the bundle of blood and rags and threw him into the hut with the other one. 

Let them spend what little time was left together. Afterall, thought Mawr, the rift between them was so great that leaving them together would only heighten Emrys’ sense of betrayal. All to the good, the more damaged he was the easier the ceremony would be.

“Soon, my Master, soon” he prayed.

xxx  
**********************************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – Translation guide to this chapter.  
> Mawr – Giant(Welsh).  
> Arawan - Welsh Pagan God of the Underworld, Terror, Revenge and War.  
> cysgu tan boen deffro i chi - sleep ‘til pain awakes you (Welsh)  
> roi iddo boen – give him pain (Welsh)


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
Arthur half ran, half stumbled to where Merlin had been thrown. But as he reached out to him he paused. He could not tell if Merlin was breathing. What if he was already gone, if he had been hurt so much that his slight frame had been unable to take it? Only touching him would tell Arthur if what he dreaded was true or not. But still he hesitated, his unbroken arm stretched out in front of him. Arthur could not bear the thought that Merlin might be gone and that he had died hating and despising him. 

“What are you thinking Pendragon” Arthur admonished himself “If he is gone you will have to bear what you did but if he is still alive then he needs your help.” And, with the imagined voice of his own inner Sergeant-At-Arms yelling in his head, Arthur reached out a still reluctant hand and touched Merlin’s arm. Reaching down the sleeve of the ruined, bloody jacket for the skinny wrist he felt for a pulse. Oh, God, nothing. Wait, it was there, small, uneven but there. Merlin was alive. 

But staring in horror Arthur was able to finally take in the full extent of the young man’s injuries. By the light of the small lamp Arthur could see that his face was swollen and so covered in bruises it was hard to recognise the normally aquiline features. One cheekbone was badly cut and his lips were ripped and bleeding. There were numerous small cuts and shallow knife wounds all over him and one deep gash in his side that was still bleeding badly. Merlin’s chest and stomach were a mass of blue, purple and red contusions and it would have been a miracle if he had not broken at least 1 or 2 ribs. Putting his ear close to Merlin’s chest Arthur could hear shallow hesitant breathing – at least it did not sound as though any ribs had punctured the lungs. There did not seem to be a square inch on him that had not been battered or kicked. Then Arthur remembered the magical pain inflicted on Merlin. Lord alone knew what damage that had done.

For a moment Arthur was at a total loss, forgetting his years of tending to comrades battlefield wounds. All he could think was that he had little with him to help Merlin. But again, pushing aside his feelings of panic Arthur pulled himself together – being too emotional now could mean Merlin’s death. He had to think. Cursing his slowness in thinking of it Arthur took off Merlin’s scarf and pressed it down onto the largest wound to try and staunch the flow of blood. He ripped his own jacket into strips and tied the scarf in place with the material, then gently lifted Merlin’s head into his lap and supported his injured friend. Merlin gave a small moan at the movement and his face tightened up with the pain. Even as deeply unconscious as he was the agony reached down and grabbed him. Arthur tried to wipe his face clean of the dried blood but it was no use and just seemed to be causing more anguish.

For an hour Arthur sat still with Merlin lying there, motionless and failing. Arthur was a soldier and he had seen enough men die to know that Merlin was losing the battle to stay alive. He had to do something. Laying Merlin down as gently as he could, Arthur got to his feet unsteadily, pain from his own arm returning for the first time since Merlin’s arrival had banished it from his mind. Ignoring it, Arthur walked wearily to the door of the hut and yelled in his best Princely fashion:

“I demand to speak to whoever is in charge. Now.” 

He didn’t think pleading would help, these soulless husks of men would not respond to that. So he took a chance that whoever had done this to them would have left them with the instinct to respond to authority (in order to be able to control them). Demands, he felt were the only way to get what Merlin needed. Also a small part of him suspected that if he gave way to panic and began to beg, it would be hard to pull himself back from the abyss of fear. Arthur heard someone speaking outside and he pulled himself to his full height and waited. He was going to get help for Merlin if it was the last thing he did.

He did not have long to wait. Almost as if he if he had been a standing outside, waiting for the guard to pass on the demand, the tall man from the clearing opened the door, growled “Sefwch i lawr” and stepped into the hut.

“I don’t know who you are or what you want but I am assuming, as you have killed neither of us, that we are both vital in some way to your plan. So I thought you should know that unless you provide some medical help for Merlin immediately then the chances are that he will die. If that happens, I promise you, you will not live long after. You have the word of the Prince of Camelot.” Arthur finished speaking and glared at the man who had subjected his friend to such agony.

“Of course my Prince” replied the tall man in such an obviously false, obsequious voice that Arthur’s fists clenched and his determination to harm him increased tenfold. “I would not want your manservant to die without having a chance to talk to you about how you let him down and how it is your fault that your lives will end the way they will. I want you both to be in fine health for the ceremony tomorrow. We shall all welcome my Devine Master back to the World. That is until I kill you both to ensure his rebirth. With his Dark Magic and the two of you gone the Realm and all within shall be ruled by Arawan”

Arthur blanched but carried on “I see no reason to engage in a discussion with you. You are clearly insane and I have no wish to add to your delusions. But I insist on medical supplies instantly.” With that he turned back towards Merlin and imperiously waved a hand, as if to dismiss the sorcerer. This was almost a step too far.

“Your insolence will be rewarded with much pain before your death, my spoilt, arrogant Prince. My Master Arawan punishes those that do not respect Him and his followers.” Mawr roared. Then he collected himself and spoke again in his silky, condescending manner. “But never mind, you will have your aid. I want this Merlin, as you call him, to be conscious and able to feel everything as you are both destroyed by the God of Terror.” With those words he stormed out of the hut, sadly not forgetting to replace the magic charm on the door.

Arthur was more disturbed by the scene in which he had taken part than he cared to admit. He wasn’t at all sure if he understood all that the madman had raved on about; but what he had understood did not sound at all good. Still he had succeeded in his main aim, aid was coming for Merlin and he would help him as best he could. But one part of the sorcerer’s speech had struck home for Arthur. If Merlin roused and woke, Arthur would have to face the emotions behind these accusing eyes. They would need to talk. And Arthur prayed it was not too late to reach Merlin and repair their friendship before they faced the trials of the next day.

 

xxx  
**********************************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – Translation Guide  
> Sefwch i lawr – Stand down (Welsh)


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
It had been over an hour and the sun had risen, although that did nothing to allay the gloom and dark of the hut. Still no-one had come and Arthur was beginning to wonder if he had played it all wrong, if weak and begging would have been the better way to go. An hour ago he had been so sure that dignity was best (and also he admitted, he had not wanted to lower himself by pleading). But that was an hour ago and since then he had watched as Merlin’s body had begun to react to all it had suffered. He was shivering and painful spasms were wreaking havoc with his body. He needed help badly.

Arthur, himself in need of some medical attention, had just worked himself up to yell for help, when he heard “Sefwch i lawr” again and the door to the hut opening. Shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight invading the dark hut Arthur heard someone being pushed in and the door shutting. He could make out a small figure in the gloom; it looked like...yes the girl who had been imprisoned in Camelot. The one who had tricked them all and then who had stood there in the forest, smiling as Merlin suffered.

“Get out of here witch. Haven’t you done enough? Without you Merlin would be well, at home in Camelot, not here. You led him here.” Arthur ranted. Here was someone else to blame apart from himself and the selfish part of him jumped at the chance to try and lessen his own guilt. “I will see you punished for...”

A small sob came from the girl and Arthur stopped. Was this another trick, one to gain his sympathy or to put him off his guard so she could hurt Merlin again?

“Step closer” he commanded. And she did.

Arthur looked into her eyes and knew at once that the girl was now free of Mawr’s spell. This was a girl in full possession of herself again but one who was deeply tormented by residual evil of the magic inflicted on her. For a moment Arthur’s heart reached out for her, so young and so damaged. He wanted to comfort her but then he remembered his main concern was Merlin. And, judging by her face, she was obviously still petrified of the Prince who had callously left her to be executed and who had agreed with the annihilation of her home. He needed to reassure her, to find out why she had been sent - could she possibly be the aid Mawr had mentioned?

“I am sorry I spoke so harshly to you. Please believe me; how I behaved in the dungeons is not really who I am. I was trying to help but I made a mess of it. I am not here to harm you or your village.” Arthur tried to give an encouraging smile – at least the girl seemed to be listening to him. “I came to help but it all seems to have gone spectacularly wrong. When we have more time I’ll try to explain to you. But why have you been sent child? How can you help Merlin?”

Niamh inspected Arthur’s face and what she saw there seemed to reassure her a little “I, I, studied with...” She stammered to a halt and her voice, already quiet, dropped so low that Arthur had to strain to hear. “I studied healing with the Druids Sire. Mawr awoke me just now from the enchantment and said I had to come and tend to Merlin.” Her voice took on more strength at the mention of his name “I hope he is not badly hurt?”

“Do you not recall what you...” Arthur stopped himself just in time “What Mawr did to him?

“No Sire. I remember the cave and then nothing. Where is he?”

Wordlessly Arthur pointed to the dark corner where he had left Merlin huddled in an uneasy sleep. Niamh took down the lamp and approached Merlin, softly calling his name. As she saw for the first time how his body had been abused she gasped and held her hand to her face. For a moment she was frozen, unsure of what to do but then her innate instinct as a healer took over and she began to tend to him. She washed and bound his wounds with a sureness and a confidence that belied her youth. Arthur began to relax when he saw just how good she was at her chosen profession and sat down close to them both. The pain and trauma he had suffered over the last day and night choose that moment to catch up with him and he could no longer fight the immense feelings of exhaustion that washed over his body. Feeling for the first time in hours that Merlin was safe he gave in, closed his eyes and slept.

xxx

 

Arthur woke with a start to find the girl, Niamh, splinting his arm. Pulling away he stuttered “Not me, it’s Merlin that needs the help.”

With a tired voice Niamh assured him that she had done all she could for the injured youth and that he too needed some attention. Looking over and seeing Merlin bandaged and as clean as possible Arthur grudgingly let Niamh finish seeing to his arm.

“While you were asleep I’ve been thinking. You called me a witch when you saw me” said Niamh.

“Yes, forgive me, it’s just that last time I saw you, you were hurting Mer...” This time Arthur did not stop himself soon enough and a look of sadness and understanding crossed the girls face.

“I thought it might be something like that. I didn’t escape the first possession by accident did I? Mawr left me free so he could use me to lure you and Merlin into the village. Then when he needed me to betray him he simply enchanted me and I turned.” She looked over to where Merlin lay and sighed “Did I hurt him?” she asked with a leaden voice.

Despite her youth Arthur knew she needed to know the truth and so told her about his plan to trick Uther and what he had seen of her involvement with Merlin’s injuries. “I don’t know what happened after I passed out but he was thrown in here a few hours ago in the state you see him in. But please, it wasn’t really you. That madman had you possessed; you didn’t know what you were doing. Merlin would be the last one to blame you. ”  
Niamh knelt beside Merlin again and took his hand in hers. “I am so sorry Merlin. I didn’t mean to hurt you and to trap you. You were the only one kind to me and this is how I repay you. I promise you now that when the chance comes I will make it up to you.” And tears fell onto Merlin’s face as she finally let go the horror and terror that had been pent up in her for so long.

As Arthur watched (wanting to comfort the girl but not knowing how – comfort and reassurance not being a big part of his experience) he saw a slight movement and realised it was Merlin’s hand. Slowly moving upwards up until it touched Niamh’s face and tried to wipe her tears. Suddenly realising what was happening she grabbed his hand in both of hers and pulled it close to her. “Merlin, I am so, so sorry” she sobbed.

A voice, filled with unimaginable loss and pain, answered her very quietly “It’s not your fault... he would have found another way...I...I...” The voice was replaced by a stifled moan as a fresh surge of pain spread through his body and the last vestiges of his magic curled up in a corner of his soul and withered to almost nothing.

Arthur had been so shocked when Merlin spoke that he did not react immediately but now, it hit home. Merlin was truly alive, awake and talking – albeit obviously still very hurt. But that was okay, they’d got through worse things together and now, together, they could figure a way out of this mess as they always did and things would be ok.

But as he knelt down close to Merlin and the youths head turned to see who else was in the hut Arthur’s fantasy burst. Merlin took one look at him and his whole body flinched. Merlin tried to back away, causing himself much pain. The expression on his face and in his eyes caused Arthur nearly as much pain. There was anger, disappointment and regret in Merlin’s look. But most of all there was hate. “You wanted...all to die...like...Uther...no trust...no friend...” Merlin gasped out the words, each one burning into Arthur like a branding iron.  
Arthur staggered to the other side of the hut. He cursed himself; his excitement at knowing Merlin was conscious had wiped all other thoughts away from his mind. He had forgotten how Merlin thought he had betrayed him. But now he knew the truth; Merlin loathed him and he could see no way back for either of them from that.  
******************************************************************  
xxx


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12  
Whether it was the emotion or the few words he had managed to speak, Merlin had exhausted himself and, turning away from Arthur, he held Niamh’s hand and fell back to sleep. Arthur didn’t know if he was disappointed or relieved that the confrontation would have to wait – actually that was a lie; he did know. He was glad; he needed time to come to terms with what had happened and to think if there was any way he could get Merlin to believe that it had all been part of a big plan. Ok, he admitted to himself, part of a big, stupid, doomed-to-fail plan. But it had been a plan nonetheless and not him becoming like his Father. He had to get Merlin to understand.

“He will forgive you. He cares for you and he does trust you. I can feel it.” Niamh’s voice quietly penetrated Arthur’s dark thoughts. “Only someone who feels very strongly would be so hurt. Tell him the truth and you will be friends again” Arthur turned towards Niamh and smiled sadly.

“How did you get to be so wise so young?” Arthur asked, with only a slight hint of teasing in his voice.

“The Druids talk and share feelings. You learn all about love and forgiveness my Lord. Magic is not just evil and death. It can be love and healing and kindness.” She glanced down at Merlin “And bravery and protection. I beg you to remember this when you are King.”

Before he could reply, the door burst open and the charm was lifted. Two Willing Ones entered, one threw down a small burnt loaf and a waterskin and the other grabbed Niamh’s arm viciously. Arthur tried to stop him as he dragged her from the hut but was hit in the stomach by the first man and in his weakened state he collapsed to the ground unable to help. Niamh was gone, back to whatever horror Mawr had in store for her and Arthur could do nothing.

 

xxx

 

Merlin didn’t want to open his eyes, didn’t want to come back to the World. He couldn’t explain why this was so, everything was a blur. He just knew that if he really surfaced from the twilight state he was in (horrible though it was), that something far worse awaited him. But the pain would not let him sleep any longer, nor would the thirst. He could not remember the last time he had drunk anything – but then that was not surprising as, in his current state, he had to admit that he couldn’t really remember anything much at all. There was nothing else for it and he forced himself back to consciousness.

This was something he immediately regretted doing as the agony from his injuries descended on him anew. But there was something more, an emptiness and a grief so strong it was unendurable. He reached down into himself and the shocking realisation hit him. His magic was almost destroyed. Most of it was gone and the little that remained was mortally weakened. He became frantic and started to try and use magic but nothing happened, try as he might. No golden eyes, no warm feeling of comforting power, just deadness and decay. All there was for him was excruciating pain, endless and heartless. His soul had been ripped apart and defiled and he knew he could not survive long without the magic that made him whole. 

Merlin could not bear it and as he fully awoke he gave a cry of such misery that it sounded as if all the goodness in the World had died. He heard someone rushing towards him and felt arms surround his body and a voice trying to comfort him. Water, brackish and warm, but still a blessed thing, was gently poured into his grateful mouth. He struggled to swallow but as he did the relief was instant. He heard someone say “Drink, Merlin.” It was Arthur. It was his friend. Merlin reached up an unsteady hand and clasped Arthurs arm “It hurts Arthur, it’s all gone, I’m not me anymore. I’m broken. Help me please, God, it hurts. So empty...”

“Gods, Merlin, I am so sorry. What’s gone? I don’t understand. So sorry for everything I did...”  
But then it came back to Merlin in an awful rush of emotions. It wasn’t just the physical pain or the trauma of losing his magic that was causing this hole within him – it was Arthur. Arthur had done something unforgivable; Merlin knew that, something unbearable. He tried to pull away. “What did you do Arthur, what did you do? What...?” 

For the first time he really looked at Arthur and he finally remembered. Arthur had betrayed him. Arthur had sided with Uther and had become a murderer. There could be no other explanation for his presence here. He must have travelled with the army and killed all the people. Merlin could take no more “You’ve killed them haven’t you?” he whispered “You’ve become Uther’s executioner. I had such belief in you; you were supposed to be the new beginning... the wise and loyal King. But you’ve failed, which means I failed. I wasn’t good enough at my task to keep you true. Everything is finished...gone...”

As Merlin’s voice trailed off Arthur finally spoke “Merlin, forgive me. I am so sorry, but you’ve got it all wrong. They’re not dead. I never meant any of it; it was a ploy to mislead my Father.” But Merlin never heard these words as he had once again succumbed to the dark peace of unconsciousness. 

Arthur held his servants limp body to him and gave into the desolation. There was no-one around to see and even Prince’s need to cry sometimes.  
xxx


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13  
The hours passed in silence, broken only by the occasional quiet gasp from Merlin as he reached for the waterskin or tried to move to ease his pain. Since awakening again he had lain in one corner of the hut, back turned to Arthur. And Arthur had eventually retreated to the other corner, defeated in his innumerable attempts to help Merlin and to explain. 

It seemed to Arthur that Merlin had withdrawn, entered a place where he could not follow. Arthur did not know about Merlin’s magic of course, let alone its traumatic loss but he could sense that something more than Merlin’s dismay at his supposed betrayal was torturing the young man.

A noise from outside the hut suddenly became audible. Banging, the rhythmic banging of drums and the beat of numerous pairs of feet on hardened soil and above it all the sound of voices chanting an ancient incantation. It was an ominous combination of sounds, and it filled Arthur’s heart with dread. He was a soldier and used to battle. He had also faced more than his fair share of magical trials and mystical creatures, but this sound filled him with such foreboding that he had to speak.

“Merlin, what’s happening? You must know something. What is that madman planning to do? Tell me.” He demanded, using a commanding voice that Merlin, even in the state he was, in could not ignore.

“Mawr is a servant of Arawan, God of the Underworld, Terror, Revenge and War. What you can hear is the beginning of the Ceremony he will conduct in order to make Arawan flesh. Mawr believes it will restore his Master to this World and give him dominion over all men. We are to be part of this ceremony, as are the villagers and” here Merlin stumbled over his words “so are the children. It will begin soon and there is nothing I can do to stop him.”

Arthur did not have time to ask why Merlin felt it was his responsibility alone to stop Mawr or even why there were both a seeming vital part of the whole event as just at that moment the hut doors opened and four extremely large men entered. Before he could react three of them had seized his arms – causing him to cry out in pain as they crushed his broken limb – and bound him. The fourth man had gone over to where Merlin lay huddled in the corner and pulled him to his feet. He too was bound and they were both dragged out of the hut.

Momentarily blinded by the blazing sun Arthur could see nothing except vague shapes, some moving in time with the pounding rhythm of the drum, feet and voices and some unnaturally still. His eyes adjusting to the light Arthur was finally able to see all the villagers gathered around the edge of a clearing. They were surrounded by the Willing Ones and, like Niamh earlier; Arthur could tell that the villager’s possessions had been lifted. But they still seemed to be under some form of enchantment – they were frozen and unable to move. They were watching in mute horror the scene that was unfolding before them. Looking around him Arthur saw a sight that was even more disturbing - the children huddled together in the centre of the clearing, Niamh in their midst. They were beside a raised mound of earth, covered in branches and flowers and herbs of every kind. Some were crying, some too scared to even do that but all held onto each other to gain some comfort. 

Arthur heard a yell and sounds of a scuffle behind him. He managed to twist in the arms of his captors just enough to turn and see what was happening. As he had suspected Merlin had just seen the children as well and had reacted strongly – despite his injuries he was struggling and fighting. He seemed to be raising his hands and pointing, why Arthur did not know. For a brief moment Merlin seemed to smile a small, content smile but then it vanished as Mawr approached him and Merlin struggled more, a look of defeat now showing on his face. Arthur did not understand what had just happened but he did know Merlin seemed to get more and more distressed by the second. Then Mawr put his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, leant forward and whispered something in his ear and the young man visibly sagged and Arthur knew all the fight had left him. He was defeated.

 

xxx

 

Merlin had not seen the children to begin with as he was pulled painfully from the hut. No, he had been searching for Mawr and for the charm that trapped his magic deep beneath the dark power it contained. He could sense it near; an almost umbilical pull from the power that had been his from birth. It was seeking him as much as he was seeking it and for the moment this need to be re-united forced all other thoughts from his mind. 

But he was soon brought back to reality by the cries of the frightened children. He raised his head and took in the scene. He had a brief moment of almost joy when he saw the villagers standing frozen around the clearing. It wasn’t too late, Arthur had not killed them all and there was hope for him. But then Merlin recalled where they were and knew it was too little hope, too late.

As he looked about him he saw with horror where the children were gathered. It was an altar from the Old Religion, a dark altar for contemptible acts. Merlin now really knew that Mawr intended death for the children and his anger exploded. Magic should not be used for such evil, for such an abomination – the sacrifice of innocents. He managed to raise his bound hands and searching deep within himself he sought what little remained of his power. His intense anger made it stir and he was glad. He knew Arthur would see but he didn’t care. Let the cold Prince know about him, it could do no harm now; their future was already shattered beyond repair. It was time. He called his remaining magic, rage igniting a small spark. It wasn’t much but Merlin knew, he just knew, it would be enough. Afterall wasn’t he Emrys, the most powerful warlock of all time? 

He raised his head, smiled gently and prepared to use his magic...but then a cold presence and a hand upon his shoulder and the words “Magic ailymuno “ and it was over. With a sickening rush he felt his remaining power leave his body and enter the pale charm. For a moment he tried to fight it, to struggle against the inevitable but it was no use. He was defeated and the children were going to die. And Arawan would ascend from the Underworld, bringing death, destruction and war with him.

xxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – Translation Guide  
> Magic ailymuno – Magic rejoin (Welsh)


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

It all seemed to move very quickly now. Arthur and Merlin were tied to two posts either side of the altar and Mawr took his place at the centre and spoke above the hypnotic chanting of the Willing Ones:

“The time is now and my Lord will be raised and I will be his right hand. All will fall before him and all will tremble and fear his mighty wrath. The entwined souls of Emrys and the King foretold will be wrent asunder and condemned to the torment of failed destiny. All shall be as I have said.” Mawr slowly walked towards Arthur, removing an ancient dagger from his belt as he did so and raising it high into the air. 

Merlin called out for him to stop as Arthur struggled helpless against his bonds. Despite everything he could not watch Arthur die like this, not tied like a sacrificial lamb to a stake. But Mawr was not listening; he was intent on carrying out his purpose and brought the knife down in one swift movement. Time stood still as Merlin watched it fall and...shallowly cut Arthur’s chest. For a moment Merlin did not understand but then as he watched Mawr reach out, mop up Arthurs blood with his hand, mutter an incantation and then touch the blood to the charm, realisation dawned. His horrified thoughts were confirmed as he watched Arthur’s eyes glaze over and become clouded. And Merlin knew that Mawr now controlled Arthur’s will. Arthur was his.

At a small nod from Mawr the Willing Ones each grabbed a child and with brutal disregard pricked their forearms and gathered drops of the children’s blood in their hands. Terrified the children screamed and dropped to the floor as the men approached Arthur and each in turn wiped the blood into the wound on his chest. And each in turn spoke the words of the ancient summoning charm “Ei ddwyn ef allan” and the dark ancient magic grew.

Mawr walked slowly towards Arthur and pressed the charm to the bloody wound and repeated the words of the spell, louder and louder each time.

“Ei ddwyn ef allan. Ei ddwyn ef allan. Ei ddwyn ef allan.” 

Mawr’s voice rose to a crescendo, linking directly to the rhythmic chanting of his supporters and then Merlin felt it. His eyes were being pulled towards the altar, as were everyone else’s. The feeling of raw, naked, satanic power spewing forth from that place made him sick to his very core. As he watched he swore he could see the air shudder and twist, a greyness beginning to emerge. It was an insubstantial feeling, a whisper of a figure but nothing more. Yet. The veil was being loosened between this World and the next and Evil was seeping through to take His place in the realm of men. And Merlin knew he was helpless to prevent it. Without his magic he was just the weak, useless serving boy everyone took him for, damaged, broken and pointless.

He looked up at the weeping children and saw Niamh had moved away from the others, fear and determination in her eyes. Whilst everyone else was looking at the ghostly apparition she had been slowly making her way over to Merlin, inching away from the man who should have been guarding her.

“It’s my fault” she whispered as she reached him “You and Prince Arthur would not be here without me, you could have defeated Mawr before it got this far. But I won’t let you die; you must escape and save yourself. I made you a promise Merlin and I will keep it.” Saying this she produced a tiny little knife that she had kept hidden since using it to cut Merlin’s bandages and began to hack at his bindings. 

At the altar Mawr had called Arthur over to him and wiped the blood from his chest onto his face. He took the horse shaped charm from around his neck and placed it around Arthur’s. “Take his power, the power of the once Mighty Emrys and use it to destroy him. It is as it should be. Now is the time. As you, the Foretold King rids the World of Emrys and my followers sanctify his death with the blood of the innocents, my Master will return. Glory be to him.” And he handed Arthur the sacrificial dagger.

Arthur turned and walked purposefully towards Merlin. Niamh hid behind the stake and Merlin’s body - slight though he was, he was still bigger than the petite young girl and she was able to stay out of sight.

Face to face, Merlin could see nothing of his one time friend in the man who stood before him, arm upraised. This was not how it was supposed to end thought Merlin as he listened to Mawr’s voice repeating the summoning spell again and again. And in what were to be his final seconds, unable to do anything to protect himself or his Prince, Merlin did the only thing left. He forgave.

“Arthur my friend, I forgive you. Please forgive me. We must leave this life as we were always meant to be, as friends. Peace on your soul and may we meet again on the shores of Lake Avalon.” With that Merlin closed his shattered eyes and waited for death.

But it didn’t come. He heard a whispered “Merlin?” and opened his eyes again. Arthur was looking at him, confused and unsure but definitely the real Arthur again. “You forgive me?” 

 

xxx

 

Arthur was not aware of anything but his mission to kill. But then, through the mists of his consciousness he heard words, words that he had never thought to hear. “I forgive you...as friends...meet again...” Whose was that voice and why did it call him away from his mission? He knew that voice, he cared for that voice...the words were so important, he needed to think. What had it said? “I forgive...as friends...meet again”. Then as if a damn had broken Arthur came back to himself. He did not know how he had come to be here, the dagger in his hand held high above the young man, who was waiting to die. But for a moment that wasn’t important and instead he knew peace. Merlin had forgiven him and that was all that mattered. “Merlin?” He murmured “You forgive me?”

But before either young man could react, Niamh had seen her chance and had rushed forward and grabbed the charm from around Arthur’s neck and had run. Arthur screamed and fell comatose to the floor. Merlin pulled hard against the ropes tying him and, weakened as they were by Niamh’s knife work, they broke. He did not know what to do, stay with Arthur or go after Niamh. He was torn but one look at the silent body at his feet confirmed that Arthur was breathing (if raggedly and painfully) and he made his decision. Clasping the wound in his side and swaying dangerously he cast around, searching for Niamh. He did not have far to look. She had tried to push through the crowd of frozen onlookers but had been seen and was now being pursued by two men. Merlin, doubled over in pain, ran towards her and reached her just as the followers made to grab her. He stood in front of her, not sure how he could help but not willing to give her up to them. .

Mawr was frantic. His Master was nearly free; if things went wrong now then He would be cast back to the Underworld. He screamed at his followers. They needed to get that girl and that charm. There was a way to do it and he knew it would stop them both as surely as death. He pointed to the children, still huddled in the clearing and made a sickening gesture, his hand slicing across his throat.

“If you do not throw me that charm then my followers will slit the throats of all your little friends” As he spoke each Willing One grabbed a child and held a knife to their necks. 

Merlin and Niamh looked at each other and knew that there was no choice. And with a nod from Merlin, Niamh threw the charm at the feet of the followers.  
xxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – Translation Guide  
> Ei ddwyn ef allan – Bring him forth. (Welsh)


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The nearest Willing One picked up the charm and took it back to Mawr. He knew that he would need to re-enchant it in order to possess Prince Arthur and kill Emrys. Only then could the spell be totally completed and his Master brought from the half way stage to full flesh. But it did not really matter in which order the sacrifices were made and he liked the idea of that troublesome girl and the defeated Warlock having to watch what he had planned. It was time for a lesson to be taught.

“You defied Him and you will both suffer for it.” He cursed “You seem to care for these little maggots gathered here.” He pointed at the petrified children as he spoke “So please know that it is your actions that have caused this.”

With those words he raised the charm and pointed it at the children. As one they began to scream and clasp their heads. They were dying and Merlin knew that it was Mawr’s magic, twisted and embittered and aided by the evil charm that was killing them. But it did not stop at the tortured children. His magic, trapped inside the charm meant that their pain was his pain as well. It coursed through his body like lightening and all he could do was grab onto Niamh as his legs gave way.

The girl’s eyes were deep green, filled with tears and helplessness. He could see the fear she held for him and his own pain reflected in them. He desperately wanted to let her know that she’d done nothing wrong, it wasn’t her fault, but he couldn’t speak. It took all his strength to concentrate on her, to try and make her somehow understand this without words; whilst all around the noises of destruction and violence filled the air. 

But he needed her to know, it seemed the only thing he could do, to try and ease the pain of the one child he could comfort, while all around them the other children screamed and died. It was his fault, it was all his fault. A fresh wave of pain hit him and he gasped, unable to hide it anymore. The girl grabbed his hand “I’m sorry Merlin, I am sorry, please...” but he did not hear what she had to say. He could not keep it at bay anymore; he succumbed to it, the pain, the fear and the nightmares...

And beyond the nightmares the children were dying.

xxx  
Niamh could not believe what was happening, everyone was dying. She let go of Merlin’s body and wrapped her arms around her own frail body. Merlin had tried to tell her it wasn’t her fault but she knew it was. She had been used and deceived. And she needed to put it right. Glancing up she saw the children struggling to live, all the while being watched with indecent glee by Mawr’s followers. She saw Merlin fighting his way back to consciousness and Arthur motionless on the ground. She saw Mawr intently chanting and watching and waiting for the arrival of the still forming shape of his returning God. She felt invisible, insubstantial and very, very afraid of what she knew she had to do.

Rising to her feet, she touched Merlin on the shoulder and whispered “Sorry” and slipped away. Merlin, conscious again, felt fear strike and he knew with absolute clarity what she was about to do. And it terrified him. Gathering all his remaining strength he began to crawl after her. But he knew that he would be too late, that she would get to Mawr before he could stop her.

Niamh started to run; unseen by the transfixed followers, and time seemed to slow down completely for the frantically, desperately crawling Merlin. He watched her launch herself at Mawr, her small knife in her hand. With a force beyond all reasoning given her size she stabbed the sorcerer in the neck and grabbed the charm. This time there was no denying her and she held it at arm’s length, took a last look at Merlin, who by now was agonisingly close, and broke the charm in two.

Merlin screamed “Don’t! Let me. Niamh, NO.” 

But it was too late. As he watched Niamh was enveloped in a dark, swirling cloud of such malevolence that it hissed and swayed like a thousand poisonous basilisks. It lifted her body away from the earth and shook her like a rag doll. It entered her eyes, her mouth and her ears and suffocated her. She was in such pain and Merlin tried to reach her but could not. 

But with Mawr injured or dead and the charm using so much of its energy in subduing and choking Niamh, something slipped out and past the charm’s restraining magic. A small white whisp of a cloud found its way to the desperate Merlin. A tiny speck of his once vast untapped power had returned home and this ignited his dormant birthright. It was as if a light had been turned on in the darkness and all his pain, sorrow and helplessness dissolved into the ether. His innate magic was born in him again, stronger and more determined than ever before. 

Merlin rose to his full height and spread his arms. Gone was the slight, lanky youth and in his place was the image of what was to come. He was the Emrys of whom the Druids spoke and the legends foretold. He was no longer Merlin, he was Emrys, he was magic invincible.

The words and magic came to him as freely as breath; he was whole again and his power was boundless. Raising his arm high Emrys brought an end to the evil around him. He called the elemental powers of the Earth to his cause and they came willingly; for he was of them and they were of him. All creation rebelled against the interloper, the one who came to kill and rule. The Elements did Emry’s bidding freely. A great darkness formed above the Warlock, the sky turned dark as death and a rush of unnatural wind dragged all the evil power of the charm up into an eternal void and, with a crash that could have deafened the universe, the chasm between the World and the Underworld slammed shut. With one graceful sweep of his arm Emry’s consigned all the followers of Mawr and Arawan to their fate. The ground shook and roared as the Willing Ones howled and fell dead to the floor, their unfeeling hearts crushed to dust.

As all this destruction overwhelmed the Willing Ones Emry’s magic did not forget the innocent and the maltreated. The villagers were freed from their frozen states and slept. The children could breathe again and were gently guided into a healing spell. And Niamh? Niamh was liberated from the tendrils that had entwined her and was lowered to the ground, cushioned and protected as she fell, by a warm embracing spell. 

For a moment Emrys stood proud and tall and surveyed all he had done. Emrys was victorious and unconquerable. But then his natural humility returned, he breathed and it was Merlin who lowered his arms - Emrys had gone. The brief and all enveloping feeling of unmatchable power and strength had gone as well, as quickly as it had come. He was himself again, battered and woefully weak. He fell to the ground, unable to bear even his slight weight any longer. 

But nothing could stop him as he pulled himself bodily over the hard stony ground to where he had seen Niamh fall. It was his only goal. As he reached her he clasped her hand and pulled her agonisingly onto his lap. She was cold and bloody and barely breathing. He could feel her life force slipping away and he tried to stop it. Raising a trembling hand over her body he was about to speak a healing spell when he heard a shout of such fury that it tore his attention away from Niamh. 

It was well it did for towering over them, covered in blood from the gaping wound in his neck was Mawr. And he was incandescent with rage as he held the sacrificial dagger high above his head, ready to bring it thrusting down into Merlin’s chest.

But he never completed his final act of revenge for, as his hand swept downwards, he was felled by a sword. It speared him through his chest and he collapsed to his knees, blood gushing from his mouth now as well as his neck. As his eyes began to lose their life he stared foully at Merlin and mouthed “He never forgets nor forgives” and then was dead.

Merlin looked up and saw Arthur swaying unsteadily behind Mawr’s body, a Willing One’s sword in his left hand. Arthur lowered himself to the ground and looked at the two figures sitting there. He reached his good hand out to Merlin’s arm and held on.

“Did you mean it?” he asked “Do you forgive me? I can explain it all.”

“Later Arthur, there will be time for that. We need to help her.”  
Merlin gestured towards Niamh and they looked at the young girl. And they both knew at once that she was beyond any help. Merlin knew that even his magic could not cure her; he was not good enough at healing spells to bring her back from this brink. He would have done the spell if he had been able, despite Arthur’s presence, but he knew it was useless. She had gone beyond his help.

“Niamh, you saved us all. The village, your family, Arthur and me. You were so brave and we thank you with all our hearts” Merlin said quietly. “Are you in any pain, can I help take it away?”  
Niamh shook her head and smiled sadly. “I am glad. I did what was right. I am not in pain; you saved me from that Merlin. I know who you are and who you will become. I have heard tell of you. And I am glad I could be a part of your story.”

Arthur looked confused at her words but let them pass. Thanks to Niamh there would be time enough for talking later.

Merlin lowered his head and kissed her once on the forehead. Niamh sighed, turned her head to look at her sleeping friends and family and whispered “It was worth it Merlin. We both know some things are worth dying for, don’t we?” She glanced at Arthur, turned once more to Merlin, smiled and then was gone.

xxx


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16  
Over an hour had passed since Niamh had died and still Arthur and Merlin sat holding her and talking as night descended. Both had explained what had happened to them during the time they had been apart. There was neither shouting nor screaming. Anger seemed unfitting for such a time and place. 

Arthur had tried to explain about his actions back at the Palace but it all seemed so long ago. All Merlin needed to hear right now was that Arthur had never betrayed him and had never intended to side with Uther, the rest could come later. They talked as they had never done before; they spoke of what they felt. Somehow it seemed a good way for them to honour Niamh’s sacrifice. If they could repair their bond then some good might come from her death. So they tried. Although both of them knew it would take time; they both knew it was worth it.

Grief and guilt masking any other emotion Merlin did not really care if Arthur had seen anything of Emrys’ magic. If he had, so be it, they would deal with whatever the consequences were. But then Arthur spoke of waking up only to see Mawr ready to kill Merlin. He told of reaching for the nearest sword and doing (in a slightly mistimed attempt at levity) “What comes naturally to me”. So Arthur had not seen him, his secret was still safe. Merlin was not sure if he was relieved or disappointed but that was a thought for a different time. He realised that he had not been seen by anyone except Niamh and now she was gone. He choked down another sob as he held her tighter. It was so unfair that such a young, kind girl should have died. Her future had been stolen from her and the future of all the people she would have saved with her healing skills. All of it, gone. 

Merlin remembered how he had looked down on Camelot for how it sometimes treated its citizens but now he felt the same about some users of magic. How could he ever hope to have magic returned to Camelot when men such as Mawr still used it to such evil ends?

As they sat there the villagers and the children began to emerge from the restorative and protective sleep Emrys had put them in. They began to move around, calling to friends and family, checking who was safe and trying to find out what had happened. Arthur sighed and cradling his broken arm with his other one he rose and addressed them all. He told them quietly of what had taken place and when he came to the part that Niamh had played he paused, still shaken by what Merlin had told him of her sacrifice. But then he continued, recounting her story so simply and so movingly. On hearing of her death a woman screamed and Arthur could hear two men sobbing. He recalled Niamh’s family and lowered his head out of respect as they came running out of the crowd.

Niamh’s mother gently took her daughter from Merlin’s arms and held her close. Her sobs were unbearable. Merlin tried to say what was in his heart “I am sorry, so sorry, I didn’t...I couldn’t...” but he did not how to say what he so wanted to say. He looked up at her father and brother and nodded once “You should be proud of her, she saved us all. I’m so sorry I could not do the same for her.”

Slowly and so softly Niamh’s family bore her body away. Merlin held onto her hand for as long as possible but then he had to let her go. It was only right she was returned to her loved ones – it was them she had died for in the end.

 

xxx

 

The next hour or so had been a complete blur for Merlin. He had been vaguely aware of Arthur speaking to the village council, sadly explaining that Uther’s soldiers would soon be there. The villager’s sadness and anger at this was tangible; when they realised that after all they had suffered their King would still condemn them. Arthur had told them it would be best if they all left, made their way to a safe haven and tried to begin again. He promised that if they sent someone to him once the immediate danger had passed he would try and give them some money to enable them to build a new life. It was little enough but it was all he could do if he wanted Uther to never find out. He explained that he planned to tell the soldiers that the sorcerer had killed everyone before being killed by Arthur. He did not want to take the credit but he and Merlin had agreed it was the safest thing to do for everyone. Arthur promised one day Niamh would get the recognition she deserved.

He had then asked, very respectfully, to be told where they were going to lay Niamh to rest. Arthur knew that both he and Merlin would want to visit the girl in the future, to remember and to grieve. He also repeated the promise to himself that once he was King she would be honoured as befitted her great sacrifice.

But that had all been some time ago now and Merlin and Arthur were sitting waiting for the soldiers to arrive. The villagers had gone, taking Niamh with them and Merlin’s heart felt it could take no more. His magic was back, seemingly stronger than before and more in his control but that did not help. The last few days had almost destroyed him and he was exhausted, in great pain and so full of guilt it hurt to breathe. It was his fault. He could not get that thought out of his mind. It sometimes seemed to him that whatever he tried to do, whoever he tried to help, someone got hurt.

Arthur came and sat down next to him and they both stared off into the distance, tired beyond endurance. “We will survive this, you know” said Arthur quietly “I’ve lost many close friends on the battlefield and you do recover. It just takes time.”

“You are not the only one who has lost people Arthur” Merlin retorted sharply. “But she was a child who came to us for help and we let her down.” Merlin tried but failed to keep the anger out of his voice. “Between you and me we should have been able to protect her. We both failed and we will have to carry that with us forever.”

“I know Merlin, I understand. But you must also accept her gift to us both. She gave her life for us. We must honour that by living to the best of our abilities and becoming men she would have been proud to have as friends. She may have been very young but she was wise and enlightened and would not want us to waste her legacy on guilt and bitterness.”

Merlin stared at Arthur. That speech was unlike anything he had heard the Prince say before. They were the words of the compassionate and wise King that Arthur was destined to become. And suddenly Merlin knew that despite the horror of the last few days, despite their mistakes and misunderstandings, their bond would deepen. Arthur had grown, was now more able to speak of emotions and feelings. He would be a stronger King for learning this skill. They would return to Camelot together, more mature and sure of the united Realm they wanted to build. They owed it to the slight, brave young girl who had given them back the future that was so nearly lost.

As they heard the soldiers approach Arthur held out his good hand to Merlin. Merlin looked at him for a brief moment and then smiled an exhausted but authentic Merlin grin. He took his friends proffered hand and allowed himself to be pulled wearily to his feet. Together they stood there, hands clasped and supporting each other as they waited for the soldiers to come and for their hard won future to begin.

xxx

Epilogue  
IT remained a long way away, watching the architects of ITs failure leave the clearing. IT did not have a solid existence; IT was nothing but anger, bitterness and vengefulness. IT had been so close to gaining a corporeal existence. When the chasm between the Worlds had slammed shut IT had been trapped on the World side and had nearly evaporated into the atmosphere, never to return. But the girl’s death, that one innocent, had been enough to stop the disintegration. She had been strong and the magic laid on her by Mawr had lingered just long enough to fix IT to this world before she passed. In all their grief and unhappiness no-one had given the ephemeral shade a moment’s thought. If they had, no doubt, they would have assumed that IT had been destroyed along with the charm and Mawr.

Bitter though IT was, IT did realise that IT had succeeded in part; IT was here now, in this realm of men and IT had a new reason for existence - revenge on the two young men who had destroyed ITs plans. Hovering above the ground IT spread itself so thinly that IT merely appeared as a faint trace of smoke and then moved off in the direction that the villagers had taken. IT was too weak to wreak the havoc IT wanted; but IT had time. IT would wait patiently until IT had the strength IT needed but then...oh, then. IT was the shade of the God of vengeance after all and IT would make them pay.

THE END  
xxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. A sequel called "Purchase From Sorrow" will be uploaded soon. Take care. Zendog.


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